Bloomington Telephone, Volume 15, Bloomington, Monroe County, 4 August 1893 — Page 2
THE TELEPHONE
Br Waltxr BftAsiuxs.
BLOOMINGTON
INDIANA
WABFAIiE IN ALASKA, Bitterness of Bhraby Between Two Triba of Indians
Xm Spite of Civilization the Fend Is 8till Alire Massacre of Long Ago How They Plotted and Planned to Avenge Death.
Tho advent of the American in Alaska is not only materially changing end modifying the habits, customs, and tisapcs of the native people, but their own history is rapidly becoming obliterated. . In all that has been written f the country little has been said of the wars that have been carried on e.mong tho vinrions Indian tribes during tho past fdrty years. Thirty years ago the fetikeen tribe, at tho mouth of the Stikeen river, one of the few navigable streams of Alaska, numbered over 2,000. Now there are not more than 100 men, women, und children. At the same time, tho Sitkans, whose principal village has been, from time immemorial, near the present town of Sitka, were quite as numerous as the Stikeens. Anout twenty years ago the small-pox broke out among the Stikeens and carries off more than 2,000 people in one winter. The population of the Sitkan Indian village is not wholly made up of Sitkan Indians. A few Stikeens have settled there and intermarried. One of these is a man over 40 years of age, named Charles Kie, who has spent a great deal of his life among white . people, who speak English very fluently. The other dny I sat with Kie on the knoll overlooking the bay and the spot where the honeR of over !00 men, women, and children of the Stikeeu tribe had been allowed to bleach in the rain aud the onn and the bodies tc crumble into dust without bu:ial. I finally got Kie into a talkative mood. He related a long story of intrigue and murder between members of the two tr.bes leading up to a grand tragedy. It was at last decided that t ie Stikeens saould be invited to the Sitkan village to engage in a round of feasting and dancing, as was the Indian rmatorn, aa a sign of the permanency of peace between the tribes. A targe log house, the largest in the village, standing where the dwelling occupied. by the notod Indian Princess Thorn now is, wc seHscted for a dance. The Sitkan
wo-nen did not take part in it; hut this j
reused no suspicion, and none was in the house but the Stikeen. men, women, and children and about fifty Sitkan wariors. , The men, covered with fur and feathers danced in a circle, while th women sat on the floor oehind this circle aad sang in a cadence suited to the dance. A few moments after the fourth dance begun a'Sitkan, who had been stationed on the roof, r ear the usual smoke outlet, made a noise like the bark of a wolf, and that was the signal for the work of murder to begin. . Ankoon and bis party drew knives from under their dresses and began killing. Spears and firearms had been concealed tbout the room and all egress prevented, and in a few moments bell itself broke loose among the disarmed Stikeen men, women and children. The de id bodies lay on the beach for days while the Sitkans engaged in the massacre indulged in a beastly drunken onry in celebration of the achievement. IJearty 200 dead bodies were finally carried down to a little point on the bay about threequarters of a mfe north of the village and there left without burial. I passed over this Golgotha with Kie, and many of the bones lie bleaohing there etilL The news of this treachery and murder reaching the mouth of the Stikeen river, the entire village was bent on revenge. Forty-eight large war canoes were fitted out and manned, beaded by Slake, the head chief of the Stikeens. The fleet went into Jamestown bay, five miles southeast of Sitka, and killed three women picking salmon berries and one Indian fishing. Then the Stikeen warriors paddled to the Hot Springs, twenty miles southeast of Sitka, some miles below a Russian redoubt established near Whale bay, and encamped. The Russian commander sent a small party of soldiers tc warn the Indians away from the springs, but they refused to go, saying that they came to encamp and not to engage in war. Believing that the Russians had something to do with the massacre of their friends at Sitka, they surprised the small redoubt and ita garrison the next night, drove out the whites and reduced the trading post, the stockade, the church, and all the surrounding buildings to ashes, and then fled to their village on the Stikeen. The distance from Sitka, the ease with which the Stikeens could ascend the river in their canoes out of the reach of the Russian ships, the meagerness of the garrison at Sitka, and the formidable number of warriors in the Stikeen tribe compelled the Kusian governor to forbear attempting any punishment for the outrage at tbe redoubt Years have not obliterated the spirit of revenge, and though the Stikeen tribe has been reduced to not more than 100 fighting men, if the influence of the whites were withdrawn tnat spirit would manifest itself by the waylaying uid murder of any detached fishing and hunting parties of Sitkans aloof the coast. Old Ann;ihootz, now ovftr 70 yews of age, has been trying for a long time to heal the feud before he dies. He has frequently invited the Stikeens to come to Sitka and put the featfrter in the hat, which means that permanent peace has teen established and that bygone's are all forgotten and buried. Mis overtures so far have been w'lolly neglected. From present appearances both tribes will soon be either extinguished or absorbed, and the memory of these outrages .will die with tfcem. New York Times.
OiN THE VERGE OF DEATH.
Boston Globe. There was; great excitement at Newells raftctt. Miss Rose Newell was coming out from the East to visit her father, and the employes of the ranch, with three exceptions, were on the tiptoe of expectancy. Those three exceptions were old Barton and his wife and James Lyal. or "Deacon Jim,' as he was more commonly called. The morning of the day on which Miss Rose was to arrive the cowboys, with the exception of "Deacon Jim," spent two hours or more in making preparat ions for the event. "Deacon Jim" alone appeared in his ordinary everyday clothing. k Why don't j'ou fix up. deacon."' someone asked, "and do t he honors of the occasion?" "I don't propose to make a fool of myself' Jim replied, "by parading before Miss Newell like a circus clown. I'm not so anxious to show off what little clothing I own and I guess she's seen better many a time." "Humph! Have you fellows got an idea that Miss Newell is going to take.auy notice of you? It's hardly likely that she's going to tome out , here and get dazzled by some common cow-punchers with a lot of gaudy trappings. I ain't fool enough to make a spectacle of myself, and give Alias Newell a chance to laugh at me. you bet!" When the carriage bearing Miss Rose arrived at the ranch, the cowboys, with the exception of the deacon, stood about the door, each one "with his best foot forward," anxious to be seen by the young lady, and hopeful of making an impression on her heart. That night, when Jim came in from the plains, they gathered about him, intent on singing the praises of Rose's loveliness. 4I tell you, deacon," Anson said, "you just ought to seen her. I never saw a woman so beautiful in all my life." "I don't doubt her beauty." the deacon replied; ''but what good would it have done me -to have seen her? She's hot going to care anything for us." "Maybe you know about that," saidAnscn, "and maybe you don't. If you had seen her smile whan she saw us, you might think differently from what you do now." "Yes, and she was looking right straight at ine wrhen she smiled!" cried Ab Johnson. "I noticed that." "Humph!" said Anson. "She was looking as straight at me as she could look." "She wasn't!" exclaimed Ab, angrily. "Hold on. now,' said Jim, "It isn't worth while for vou to fight over that. I can easily believe that she'd V smiled, whichever one of vou she was looking at, when she saw the clothes you had on. It was enough to make her smile, I'm sure." Ab and Anson muttered something, then went away, and the subject was dropped. From that time on they viewed each other as rivals, and were never on good terms again. A month passed. Miss Newell proved a very sensible young lady, and though she had grown up under the influences of the highest refinement, she adapted herself readily to her new surroundings. She treated her father's employes with the kindest consideration, laughing and chatting with them with perfect freedom, little suspecting what stress thejr placed upon every word and every ripple of laughter that fell from her lips. Anson and Ab both grew more sanguine and hopeful as the days went by, and each in his own heart came to feel assured that he wTas winning his way into Rose's love. Deacon Jim had continued on from the first in the even tenor of his way. He never thrust himself forward at all never made anv effort to gain admission to Rose's society, but if anything, rather seemed to avoid her. A change had come over the deacon, too. Always serious, he had become almost melancholy. He liked to mope about alone or sit for hours gazing thoughtfully into space. He was in love, though, he tried hard to conceal the fact from himself, and for all the world would not have admitted it to any one else. One morning, when the men were preparing to begin the work of the
day, a dispute arose between Anson and Ab. and as it grew warmer and more bitter, the former said: "When I become a partner on this ranch, you'll go, Ab. Johnson, as sure as shooting. I won't have you here." "When you get to be a partner!" sneered Ab. "When I get to be a partner, you'll go, and don't you forget it.,r "You a partner!" Anson said, mockingly. "Why. Rose Newell wouldn't have you, if you were the last man on earth!" "My notion is you'll both see that you are making fools of yourselves," old Barton observed. "Miss Rose will never have either of you. If I had to name anybody on this ranch that she was most likely to marry ld say it was Deacon Jim." There was a universal roar of laughter at this las'; remark and everyone seemed to think it a great joke. "Why," said Anson, "the deacon don't stand a ghost of a show. He ain't shined around her a bit. and they never take any notice of ecch
other scarcely. Yout off, Barton away off. Jim ain't in it at all." That dky Rose rode with her father aros& Vhe country and iate in the afternoon was returning alone to the ranch. When within two miles of her destination she 'Was aroused from a drowsy reverie by a rushing, surging noise that came suddenly up from behind Jier like the onsweep of a great storm. She listened an instant, glanced back and then uttered a cry full of terror.
A little distance away sue saw a
TOPICS OF THESE TIMES. INDIANA. From an exhaustive monograph, compiled by Mr. John B. Conner, of the Indiana Farmer, at the request of the Indiana Board of World's Fair Managers, we have gleaned a few interesting facts relative to the resources, history and future possibilities of the great Hoosier State. Indiana, exclusive of the surface
covered by the lakes of the State,
i has 21,637, 7ti0 acres of land. From
sweeping down upon her in one j north to south its average length is mighty, irresistible mass. j about 250 miles with a width of
Jn over the level piaiue ine norse ; noarlv 150 mil. Tho Territorial
government was established in May. 1800. As early as 1702 French explorers had found their way into the
territory now embraced within the
rear
sued, and on. on m the
came the surging sea of horns. One mile was thus run and part of another, and the girl, bending low over the horse's neck, urged the an
imal to still greater speed, while a ! limits of the State, but seventy years
hope of escape came to her heart. i later the white population did not But at that instant the horse j BX?eed 550 o lu l808 , stumbled and fell to its knees and ( , . , w i , she was thrown to the ground. whte population numbered h.OOO. The horse recovered its footing ' and the census of 1810 showed 24.and sped away. ; 520. The Indian titles to lands. reShe arose, looked about her in a jlinquished in 1810, released only tho daze of wonder, saw the herd almost hill regions in the southern part- of
upon her, and in a hopeless despair j the State. All north of the Indh
attempted to run, but with a cry of
pain she sank down helpless. She had sustained a sprain, and could not support her weight. She heard the cattle as they swept up nearer and nearer over the hard, dry sod. Another minute wrould bring them upon her. She shuddered and covered her face with her hands. Then she felt a pair of strong arms about her. She was lifted up and sat upon a horse's back. A man sprang quickly in front of liAr t.n thp sari dip. and. nlantimr his
spurs in the animal's side, swept j river r the Pottawato nies. This
lan
; Boundary Line, beginning in the
Whitewater valley and extending in a northwesterly direction to the Wabash river, just north of Terre Haute, was held by Indian tribes and was an unbroken hunting ground, abounding in wild game. In 1816 the Territory had a population of 63,897, and was admitted to the Union as a State. In 1818 all Indian lands were relinquished to white settlement excepting a small reservation on the Mississinewa river for the Miamis and a similar t ract on Eel
away at full speed. There were a few minutes of uncertainty, a few minutes fraught with terror, alternating with hope and despair. Then it was over. and. amid a wild shout from the assembled cowboys, the horse halted at the ranche, while the herd swTept on by but a few yards away. It" was Deacon Jim who had saved Miss Newell's life, and everybody agreed that he had performed a brave deed. Even Anson and Ab admitted that. Jim, however, considered his act of .very little consequence, except for the result, and he did not like to hear it mentioned. The next morning Miss Rose sent for Jim, and, blushing and trembling, he went to her room.
She was lying on a couch, looking
A.' I A .1 .
section was Known at tne tune as the ';New Purchase. ' and was speedily taken up by home-seekers, and, fortunately, by actual settlers, without the aid of speculators. There being no market for lumber, the almost inestimable wealth of the great timbered central portion of the State was in a large measure sacrificed and wasted in rail fences and by deadenings and burning in logheaps. In the hill sections of the State sixty years ago plowing was done so as to prevent washing coillies, so as to throw a furrow down hill, dragging the plow back to run another furrow, and thus by great labor plowing half an acre a day. Now. bv means of the revolving
plow, hillsides are as rapidly tilled
more beautiful than he had ever seen j as other lands. Summit lands, Ivinir i
ner iook oeiore. n
V
one xnanKea nun proiuseiy lor ner !,, i. ..v , ,
i i a ur I.,,,, ""ui'uaiu wjtu ; iK-a v ruiv, tne ton
ffuaffe. but but bv her looks, how ! 50x1 bein comparatively shallow,
truly grateful she wras.
How the deacon ever came to
;ay
but by drainage and fertilization have become very durable and Dro
it no one could surmise, and even he j ductive. The State is especially rich could never account for such bold- j in aUuvial soils aloaff tho numerous
ness and audacitv.
"Miss Newell, ' he said, ,;to do you a service is a glorious reward of itself. To save your life, believe me, is a privilege worth living for'. Then, blushing at his own temerity, he arose to leave the room, but she held out her hand to check him. Soon it became noised about that that the deacou and Miss Newell were to be married in a few days, a id that the deacon was to become a half owner of the ranch. This information was not pleasant to Anson and Ab, but, bitter as it was, they had to swallow it. rl can tell you how it happened," said old Barton. "She's a girl ol Simse, and it is not what a man says or the way he looks that takes with her. but it's the way he does. Jim v on her by his actions, wThich appealed to her heart, while you chaps tried to win her by your dress. If it's clothes a girl wants to marry, s!ie can beat taking you fellows all hollow by going to a clothing store and buying a suit." ' Blamed if I don't believe she could' said Ansoni
river bottoms and water courses. These soils are remarkable for their fertility and usually rest on beds of sand and gravel. The frequent overflows keep up the fertility, and seventy to eighty bushels of corn per acre is no unusual yield. The prairie lands of the State, in the northwestern section are usually underlaid with a heavy ciay subsoil, and usually contain a considerable per cent, of sand, and, in favorable years, are as fully productive as the bottom lands. Through drainage, the oldtime "chills and fever,1' that were a standing menace to the health and prosperity of the people, have been removed, and these miasmatic diseases are seldom experienced even by the residents of what was formerly known as the swamp regions. The railroad epoch in Indiana begun in 1850. though a few lines had been projected and partly built fifteen
i years earlier. No State in the Union
has superior transportation facilities
to-day. All but three of the ninety-
staining Floors.
The popularity of stained floors, two unt are touched by some of
savs the INatmal .builder, goes on
increasing. Nowhere are they more appreciated than in sleeping rooms, where sweetness and freshness are the main considerations Just what is the best stain is a difficult ques-
the lines. No one influence has had so great and beneficial an effect on the agriculture of the State as the numerous railway lines. The first public exhibit of shorthorn cattle ever held in the State was in Gov-
tion to decide, although nermanra-
nate of potash is believed to possess j ernor's Circle. Indianapolis, now the many advantages. It is much used j site of the State Soldiers' Monuin the navy, and is very satisfactory ment. in 1835. From this date these
in sitting rooms and sleeping rooms. re bred cattle were BOUght for in
from Mr.
in sibling- rooms aim siet pia rooms. pure bre(j cattle were sought I As most people know, permanganate ; c,, nnA . ! . i j , a 1 -r n j i. all sections, ana importations not onlv stains, but purines and dis- I ' , 1 infects the rooms which are stained, j England have been numerous.
The mode of procedure is this: Procure a good quality of permaganate of potash and dissolve about an ounce and a half of the crystals in a gallon of boiling water. This will make quite a dark stain. Use a stick to stir up the mixture; then, with a painter's flat brush, lay on the stain, working the way of the wood quicklv and boldly. Itam's Horn AY riiikies. When God borrows from a man he pays good interest. When a man is mad the devil can make hitn believe anything. It is hard to understand how some people can profess so much and do so little. There isn't much power in the pray-, pr of a man who is a loafer in Christian work. There is no blinder man than one who can nowhere see the footprints of Christ.
Conner regards Purdue University as a most beneficent institution to Indiana 1 agriculturists in every way, claiming that it is producing a class of intelligent farmers that would have been impossible to have secured in any other way. Lands are still comparatively cheap to those who know how to use them, and no commonwealth in the United States is more favorabty situated with regard to markets and possible profits for the intelligent agriculturist. AMERICAN WHEAT PRODUCTION. There is a measure of encouragement to the fanners of the United States in the fact that the production of the great staple of wheat has approximately reached the maximum, and were it not for the unknown quantity, in the problem, of
the output of the other great cereai producing countries of the globe the future prosperity of the American husbandman might be predicted with some degree of accuracy and regulated by a decreased supply for the constantly increasing demand that must of necessity be a marked peculiarity of the markets of the world within the next decade, if the ratio of the increase of population in the past ten years shall be maintained in the large cities of our own country and of other lands. Notwithstanding the rapid development of the territories of the Northwest, and the great addition to the area of lands sown to wheat as a consequence, there was during the ten years ending with 1889 a reduction of 2,000,000 acres in the nation's wheat area that had been attained up to J879. The tendency to devote more and more land to meadows and pastures has been a marked peculiarity of agricultural progress in the United States since 1879, and each' year, while showing great increase in the area of cultivated soil, has shown a decrease in the per centage of land that has been devoted to the production of the great staple. The conversion of wheat lands to other uses has been very active in all the States east of the Mississippi, as well as in Iowa. Missouri and Nebraska. The reductions in Iowa, Nebraska and Missouri aggregated no less than 3,560,000 acres. The area devoted to corn production is also deficient, so that the possible conversion of corn lands to the production of wheat is no longer practicable, and there are indications that wheatlands will, under present conditions, be largely diverted to corn growing, to meet the constanty increasing demands of a home market that annually adds 1,500,000 to its population. As matters stand now, we have the product of some (5.000.000 acres for export, but with the steady growth of our population, the acreage devoted to growing wheat for shipment abroad must naturally decrease at the rate of at least GOO, 000 acres per annum, unless which is highly improbable we can add materially to our wheat bearing area. As there are no more Dakotas that with the aid of Kansas aded G. 500, 000 acres to the wheat area during the past eight years to replace the acres that are continually being diverted to the production of corn. beef, hay and cotton in the older States, it seems inevitable that our supply of wheat for export must of necessity decrease, and should there be a failure of the w heat crop as has often happened in other countries, the price must materially advance in the European markets and consequently in our own. When agricultural producers shall have learned the great lesson by which capitalists have profited to such an alarming extent in the past few years to limit by combinations and trusts the production of an article of wThich there is already an over-supply on the market, fifty cent wheat will become an unknown commodity. SIGNIFICANT MILITARY MOVEMENTS. Word comes from San Francisco that a battalion of Royal Rifles and two battalions of Royal Marine Artillery have received orders to sail from England for station duty at Victoria on Puget Sound, while the British cruiser Royal Arthur is already at Esquimalt, and other war vessels have been ordered there. The New York Sun in a lengthy editorial suggests that these movements indicate a fear on the part of Great Britain of an adverse decision by
the Bering Sea Commission, and that it is preparing, to uphold its claims to hunt seals in the disputed waters in spite of the decision of a tribunal by whose decision it has agreed to abide, but admits that this seems very improbable and far-fetched. The future of Hawaii, or a half dozen other obscure reasons, may have actuated the British government in thus massing, what is. after all, but
a very small military force at the
Pacific rendezvous. It may be the intention of the British government to establish an important naval station on the western coast of its Ameri can possessions, but it is highly improbable that the present British ministry contemplates an open rupture and absolute bad faith with the United States. Esquimalt lies opposite to the entrance to Puget Sound, and that body of water is fast becoming a great maritime center. The action of our government in sending the battleship Monterey to cruise about the various ports on the Sound, and the ordering of the Philadelphia, Charleston and Yorktown to the Pacific, is an assurance that the naval authorities of our own country are fully alive to the significance of the suspicious movements of John Bull's naval forces, and are prepared to checkmate them.
THE FAIR SEX. Prince Francis of Tedc, brother of the bride of the Diike of York, is said to be engaged to marry Miss Nellie Bass, daughter at the wealthy London brewer. Jay Gould in his will required that the unanimous consent of the other heirs should be obtained in advance to h marriage of his daughter, Mis? Helen Goulci. That, it is said, she has secured.
Miss Cecilia Mackenzie of Bruchnair. is the leader of the Scottish Women's Church Defense Union, which is organized to combat the proposed overthrow of the national church of Scotland. The bereaved partner of tie late Ralph C. Woodworth, of San Francisco, gave assurance in the notice of her husband's death that during the funeral of the dear departed, a note clerk would be present at the bank. A SAILOR II AT. The tailor-made girl tells you she wears a sailor hat. The maiden of frills and rutlles makes the same remark. But when the two hats are compared, they have little family resemblance. The one whiebis firmly on tho head of thetailor-inadg girl is prim and stiff, made of dark straw and with no other trimming save a plain ribbon band.
A flu fly girl seen in Washington the other clay wore a sailor hat ol another sort. It was of cream-colored straw. The rather low crown was raised a trifle by means of a black velvet band. A black Prince 3f Wiiics plume strod proudly erect at the front. wThile other black tif juried around it. Loops and :cmc.6 of pale blue velvet were the only other trimming. The brim of th hat was lined with blue velvet arranged in narrow bands. There ire three women holding important positions in the Patent Office n'i Washington. One is Mrs. Sarah J. Noyes. who is the expert Second Assistant Examiner, in t' 6 Mcctricai division ; the second is Miss Tyler, the Second Assistant Exair iner of fanning implements: and the third is Mrs. Fraucis R. Ij.vbrand, Assistant Examiner of Civil Engineering. All thro positions require thorough teehnk-a; knowledge. Lovekaid. Colo., has a Co-operative Exchange Club numbering twenty-four women. They do not d&ti iii money at oil, only labor and products. A HOUSE JACKET. Insertion is p-jpular this summer, lu this dainty house jacket it is shown t exec-dent advantage The jacket is made of pale-blue lawn trin in k! with diagonal bands of Valenciennes insertion.
1 1 1
The skirt is very full and is finished with a ruffle of the lace. Narrow pale bnieWBljoriSTtt'Frun in and out through the belt and tie in front in a bow with many loops. Such house jackets are also made of white lawn trimmed with strawcolored insertion and lace. A small troup cf Hawaiian swur.JJ mors are in San Francisco. "Witn the exception of one woman who has some grace the women are pro nou need by an Examiner reporter ' flabby, un wholesome, gelatinous1 Once in the water, however, they could loaf there all day, and the endurance of these "lumps of brown women' as the Examiner calls them, is something incredible. It is said that when between two of the Hawaiian islands the boat of a native woman and her white husband sank beneath them the woman-swam with the man until he was dead, and then brought his body to shore, swimmi ng sixty miles.
